Influence
by Scythe Of The Reaper
Summary: Secrets and betrayals are hidden within the Organization's every member, but some of them are far more powerful than others.When a new member joins and starts to unknowingly threaten those secrets, he learns just how terrifying the Nobodies can really be.


_Author's Note: This is my first fanfiction. I hope you like it. Leave a review and let me know, please? _

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**Iиfluεиᴐε**

The only light in the room was a soft silver glow, seeping through the window that completely dominated one wall from floor to roof. The rest of the area was lingering in darkness, the white walls hidden behind black drapes. There was a thick ebony rug on the floor, with three similarly-coloured couches arranged upon it, and a small glass table placed between them.

It was a decadent room for one that belonged to the Castle That Never Was, but then again, the Superiors were fairly luxurious when it came to decorating their own areas. Vexen's room reflected that in all aspects – from its intricately carved bookcases, containing massive volumes of scientific lore and philosophy, to the beautiful furniture which he had imported from various worlds. In a rare display of relaxation, the man himself was sprawled across one of his couches, gazing out the window and sipping a potent cocktail of potions which he'd created himself. The other two couches were similarly attired with Lexaeus and Zexion, the three of them silently lying there and watching the mist float by outside the darkened sky.

It was an irregular procedure within the Organization, three members staying together even after their mission had been completed… let alone three members retiring to a particular room, drinking a knockout dose of elixirs and sleeping potions, sleeping off the injuries or fatigue that came with a difficult mission. However, it had become a pattern with the three of them, eventually causing them fall into situations like these – comfortably lingering between the edge of awareness and unconciousness, easing out of the tense state that they kept themselves locked into so often.

As his two comrades fell into a peaceful, drug-induced sleep, Vexen closed his eyes and wearily thought back over all of the times that he'd been in this very same position, almost smiling to himself in reminiscence as he downed the last of his potion. Hundreds of missions had been carried out; thousands of wounds had been dealt and received; an uncountable number of his recovery elixirs had been consumed. There was a rare thread of trust and friendship that had brought the three together, along with some dimly vague, long-buried memories that haunted their dreams at night… dreams of a time when they could still genuinely trust their emotions…

But those were times of the past; scarcely remembered and never spoken of. Instead, when conscious, the three engaged in discussions, debates, and in-depth strategy plans. Vexen would reveal the depth of his experiments, Lexaeus would relate the newest (and most confidential) information of the inner workings of the Organization, and Zexion would lay bare the details of his newest scheme.

No other member could be trusted with that information, and yet the three divulged it to each other as easily as if they were exchanging the latest social acts being conducted between the other members.

Yes, it was a very rare bond that linked them together, Vexen mused, but he didn't mind it at all. And with that last coherent thought, he fell asleep.

_Three hours passed…_

Lexaeus blinked sleepily, allowing himself a couple of moments of reprieve before snapping back into his normal, steadfastly alert self. Sitting up straight and taking in his surroundings, he calculated the time and realized that there was supposed to be a meeting in about… well, now. It wasn't anything important, the Superior had said, but it was still something one was expected to attend.

Sighing softly, Lexaeus was just about to open a portal when one appeared in the room, Vexen stepping out. The Academic looked worried, a common enough look, but the nervous tic jumping in his jaw hinted at some darker reason. Before Lexaeus could greet the other, Vexen let out a quietly explosive curse and collapsed upon his own couch, running his hands through his hair and murmuring softly to himself.

Recognizing the warning signs of an upcoming anxiety attack, Lexaeus seated himself back down upon his couch and softly asked "What's wrong?"

Vexen's gaze darted around the room. He'd fallen back into fully-fledged paranoia mode, and the blood already trickling down his chin as he began to gnaw his lips proved that his mind was already over-analysing every single detail of information available for processing. As Lexaeus' question penetrated his sensed, he shook his head slightly and answered "We have a new member."

He drifted off into thought again, standing up and beginning to pace. He was obviously thinking through something, and thinking it through fast. Lexaeus watched him for about a minute, before clearing his throat pointedly and asking "You were saying about a new member…?"

"Oh, yes. Roxas… The _Key Of Destiny._" Vexen's voice was thick with derision. "He's nothing more than a child. For some ridiculous reason, Xemnas has allowed Axel to take him under his wing – as though _that _will help him adjust to the Organization. I would have suggested Zexion look after him, but I didn't think that he would be capable, taking into account this _issue_…"

"Be careful," Lexaeus warned. "If Zexion even thinks you're babysitting him…" he left the threat hanging in the air, eyes narrowed. Vexen sighed impatiently, but kept himself in check for a few minutes, pacing around the room before sinking back down into his couch, unable to control himself.

"Listen, Lexaeus, I have a few _major _concerns about this._" _Vexen laughed wildly, frantically, continuing "Forgive me if I cannot keep them to myself, but this _issue_…"

"What _issue_?" Lexaeus asked impatiently, crossing his arms over his bulky chest. "What kind of issue could even possibly affect us?"

"An issue that might result in 'us' not being a team anymore," Vexen snapped back. He pointed almost accusingly at Zexion's sleeping frame, then went on "An issue concerning _his _memories of what we did to him!"

Lexaeus looked blank, before astounded understanding dawned on his face and he demanded "You think that this Roxas has the ability to cause Zexion to remember that we left him…" he paused, lowering his voice, glancing at the unconscious Schemer and continuing "that we left him to die?"

"Yes," Vexen sighed, collapsing back into his couch. "And that's not all."

Lexaeus raised a questioning eyebrow, and Vexen raked his hands through his hair again. "I know I'm paranoid, but this may come to pass if Zexion ever goes near Roxas. Judging by his curiosity, it may well occur… If you were Zexion, and you knew that your two closest friends left you to die, what would you do?"

"Ask why."

"Exactly. You might also remember that those two friends, before leaving you to die, called you a coward and openly showed hatred and contempt of you. You might remember that they had done that several times before when you didn't act like they did, casting you out of their friendship and forgetting you. At other times, in total contrast, they respected you and treated you as a comrade when you exceeded their highest expectations of you. And you might wonder why that was."

Lexaeus' eyes narrowed to venomous blue slits. "You make us sound like total manipulators."

"And who is the biggest schemer here?" Vexen shot back, continuing on with his previous train of thought before the Hero could reply. "If you were Zexion, and you could remember that, it stands to reason that the person who reminded you of that would also remind you of someone else. Someone who you felt very close to. The person who you used to be before you completely changed your personality to win the approval and respect of the Apprentices who you worked alongside. The Apprentices who you respected more than anything, who had originally accepted you when you knew nothing else besides loneliness… but then, once you had joined them, they started to hate or ignore you just as much as the other people did. That person, who used to watch the sunset every evening, who started locking himself into his room for days at a time just to study… to win respect."

Lexaeus was fuming by this time. "We were _not _that bad."

Vexen flatly replied "He was a child. He wanted acceptance. We were the only people who came even close to doing so, but only when he went completely against his own morals and beliefs in order to impress us. He shattered his own spirit and personality so that he could join us in our experiments on the Heart, and when he did… we treated him like he was our own son."

Lexaeus shook his head. "We couldn't have had that much influence." But his words rung hollow, and Vexen could tell, because he gave his comrade a dully reproaching look. Trying in vain to prove a non-existent point to the other, Lexaeus fumbled on "He was a child. He was growing up. It's natural he'd imprint on the people around him."

Vexen laughed derisively. "Because every teenager normally likes cutting hearts open and torturing creatures produced from a horrific experiment simply to find out what makes us whole. Remember the night when he went out to watch the sunset, and we locked him out of the Castle because we considered it too childish? He couldn't get back in until dawn, when Ansem found out that he'd stayed out all night… But he never spoke of it, only urged the old man to go on and build an underground lab for our experiments. And when we found out about that, we just went back to treating him like the best Apprentice to ever join us all over again, and he never did anything of the 'childish'" his fingers etched quotation marks in the air "Sort again. Except for the last night, when he completely collapsed back into a terrified panic, and we abandoned him… Left him to be tortured by the Heartless before dying."

"Stop it!" Lexaeus ordered, verging on the edge of panic himself. Vexen's cold logic had no fault that could be seen, and he knew it. The Academic gave him another dull look, shrugging slightly.

"I will if you wish… But it's entirely possible that Roxas could cause him to remember all of that. Zexion would hate us if he remembered, and the fact that Roxas is so strongly independent would just make it worse."

"You can't argue that Zexion is dependent on anyone, though," Lexaeus pointed out, deeply troubled.

"Only because he'd rather have his heart ripped out all over again rather than admit to having a weakness. Once he was reborn, he couldn't remember anything of his original personality, only how he had acted in the last forty eight hours and our reactions. So his false personality became new, and he forgot what we put him through – but he has every chance to remember now that Roxas has joined us. If his personality reminds Zexion of his own, original personality and everything else… We'd lose him."

Lexaeus was silent, before he slowly admitting "I don't want that to happen."

"Do you think I do?" Vexen challenged softly. "He's my friend. I could never fully respect him before we died, but now… all three of us are so close. We complete a mission, we come here, we talk and sleep… we trust each other. I love him as a friend, even though we're not supposed to be able to do that, and I'm actually scared of losing him."

The Silent Hero looked at Vexen, sighing slightly. "Then keeping him away from Roxas seems to be your only chance. If you care about him so much, don't let him have the opportunity to remember everything." He was quiet for a moment, before shaking his head. "You know… Despite everything… I couldn't bear to lose him."

"Neither could I, Lexaeus. Neither could I."

There seemed to be nothing more to say, and Lexaeus eventually excused himself to return to his own room. After he had left, Vexen had cast a thoughtful look at Zexion, before sighing and going to his personal chamber. It was only when the Academic had shut the door behind him that a perfectly alert Zexion opened his eyes, and they were glittering silver with unshed tears of rage and hurt as he contemplated the conversation which he had just overheard.


End file.
